


Inexplicable

by Missy_dee811



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Secret Avengers
Genre: BDSM Scene, Bathing/Washing, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Tony, Bottom Tony Stark, Commander Rogers, Consensual Somnophilia, Dom Steve, Dom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Light Sadism, M/M, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Post-Civil War, Post-Civil War (Marvel), Secret Relationship, Somnophilia, Sub Tony, Sub Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22555219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811
Summary: “I missed you too,” he said.This was nice.This was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he craved. He wanted to turn around, to wrap his arms around his neck, and run his fingers through his hair. He wanted to kiss along his jaw and bite his neck, but Steve had other plans.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 111





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts).



> Happy (belated) birthday!
> 
> This was inspired by Lee Upton's [The Best Drink](https://poets.org/poem/best-drink), which also serves as the inspiration for the title. 
> 
> This is vaguely set after CW, and after Avengers: Prime, when Steve and Tony are on speaking terms but Steve isn't on the team (he's off with his super secret spy team on super secret spy missions), circa the beginning of Avengers vol. 4.

It had been a hard day.

Nothing out of the ordinary, but that’s what made it frustrating. It was another long day on a long list of long days. Calls, emails, meetings - they never ended. He’d get off the phone with one person, and another would call. One meeting would end, and he’d be rushing off to another. And everything needed his immediate attention.

Read these reports, sign these forms, review these documents.

His executive assistant handled a lot of it, and he was thankful. She took calls, answered emails, responded to memos, sent faxes, mailed documents - whatever he needed her to do. He paid well, and she paid attention. She caught small details, noticed mistakes before they cost him.

She reminded him of someone else, but he tried to forget her. Tried to forget whatever they may have had. These days, she was a widow. They didn’t talk much.

Why was it that the thoughts he wished he didn’t have were the ones that continued to haunt him?

He was drowning in a sea of what ifs and maybes. He knew the answers to so many of these questions. He was a futurist after all. Besides, there were precedents. He knew what would happen when a woman dared him to walk away, to be happy once and for all. And he wasn’t willing to pay.

His assistant was still sitting at her desk. It was almost seven. He knew he should leave. He’d pick-up where he left off at home. Alone.

Most of the time, he was alone.

Picking up his jacket as he walked out of his office, he sighed. He should tell her to go home. Surely, there was someone expecting her. Expecting to see her or hear her. There would be more work, always, but she didn’t have to stay to do it. And she didn’t have to stay tonight.

Making his way to her desk, he decided.

“You know you don’t have to stay late every day. And I’m not saying that because I’m your boss and I don’t want to pay you. You know, it’s not that. I’m saying this as someone who understands why you sit here, night after night. Even on the days I leave early… I work from home. I’m an addict. And this job is just one of my addictions.

“I don’t want to see you in this office, night after night, after the sun’s gone down, and everyone else has left, typing away. Go home. Take a vacation. Those people you love. They won’t always be around. Tomorrow, those emails? They’ll be there,” he said.

He was trying for lighthearted and humorous, and maybe it was his delivery, or maybe it just wasn’t funny, but she picked up on something else. The unsaid. The in-between.

Frankly, it was his fault. He hadn’t realized how well she knew him, and just how much she had picked up in the months she had been here, tending to his affairs, but he should’ve expected this.

So much for being a futurist.

“Mr. Stark,” she said, treading lightly. “Who was it that died?”

_Steve. Wasn’t it obvious?_

He wanted to say that. But even that simple question obscured something much more complicated. Maybe it was obvious in hindsight how much he cared, how devoted he had been, and how devastating it had been to choose a cause over a person and have it all backfire spectacularly.

He couldn’t recall what it felt like, he couldn’t recall why he did it. But still, he knew. He’d read enough and saw enough and understood enough to know. It was never obvious, though it should’ve been, and maybe that was the issue all along. It sounded simpler than the truth. The complicated truth. He wanted to say it, but it was both too soon and much too late to make such proclamations.

Why did he always befriend his employees?

He had a headache and craved something amber and smooth.

It was difficult to say no to that addiction, though it had been a long, long time since he’d succumbed. He had debated not saying anything at all, but he couldn’t let her… Waste her evenings? Get too close and care too much? It would best if she didn’t get too close, if he kept her out. He’d hurt enough people he’d never intended on hurting.

A simple, “Mr. Stark,” broke his reverie.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Lost in thought,” he said. It was a poor defense, but at least it was true.

“I know,” she said and smiled. She had turned off her computer and had put on her jacket.

Following her lead, they took the elevator together. She pulled out her phone and quickly sent a message to someone. He smiled. Putting his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the back wall. Pepper had told him, long ago, that all women were intimidated by men - some more than others. It was a conditioned response to living in a world such as theirs. He took her words to heart. Therefore, whenever in close quarters with a woman, he kept his distance, and made himself as unassuming as possible.

Upon arriving on the ground floor, she turned and waved goodbye. He nodded just before the doors closed.

There was a moment of silence before his phone rang, or rather, vibrated. He kept the ringer off. Someone somewhere always called at an inopportune time, and he’d had enough embarrassment for one life. He picked up the second time. They were persistent.

“Hello,” he said, distracted by his raging migraine. The sort of migraine he hadn’t had since before Extremis. He was at the mercy of light and sound once again, and he hated it.

“Tony,” said that voice, that unmistakable voice. _Steve._

“Are you free?”

_For you? Always._

“Yes,” said Tony. He always said yes.

“Then you know where to meet me.”

“Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” said Tony. He had walked across the parking garage to where his car would be waiting. Feeling conspicuous, he’d driven a bright red sports car to work this morning and regretted that now. He wanted to fade into obscurity.

No, that wasn’t right, or necessarily true.

He wanted to melt into his arms.

The drive home was both quick and uneventful. The ideal. The Tower had an underground parking garage and an elevator that took him directly to the penthouse. He wouldn’t have to see anyone he didn’t want to see. It was perfect. He knew the migraine would go away so soon, but he was hoping he’d be too distracted to care or for it to matter.

He knew he was already there. There was too much tension in the air. Or maybe, the tension was all around him, and he brought it with him wherever he went. Tony was too distracted and didn’t feel him sneak up behind him until he wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed.

“I missed you too,” he said.

_This was nice._

This was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he craved. He wanted to turn around, to wrap his arms around his neck, and run his fingers through his hair. He wanted to kiss along his jaw and bite his neck, but Steve had other plans.

“No, stay there,” he said, calmly. It was that voice, that voice he used when he wanted to be demanding but didn’t want to raise his voice. It shouldn’t be so enticing, but Tony loved that voice.

Steve pulled away and Tony missed him even more. He could handle not seeing him, as they were often in different cities or on different continents, but he couldn’t handle when he stepped away. It always left him feeling alone and exposed. Though, he lived alone and therefore, was often left to his own devices. Furthermore, he was still clothed.

Much too many clothes.

Steve seemed to have the same idea, when he returned, and started unbuttoning Tony’s shirt. Tony didn’t move. He let Steve take his time.

“I wanted to shower,” he said.

“We can do that,” replied Steve, not taking his eyes off Tony’s dress shirt. He wore red today.

Steve ran his hand down his chest and Tony shivered. Steve was pleased, he knew he was half hard already. He finished undressing him as Tony stood silently and obeyed every one of Steve’s commands. He untied his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and slid off his pants.

It was the voice. The voice he used. It was his undoing.

He stood before him in his underwear, with his cock straining against the lace, and socks.

Steve tugged on the waistband. “Did you wear this for me?”

_I always wear something for you._

“Yes,” he said, bashful suddenly, as Steve slipped it off. He tried to ignore how close Steve was to his cock, now fully erect. How much he wanted to feel his lips close around the head, and how warm and wet it would be. Instead, choosing to stare at his socks.

“You can take those off,” said Steve and Tony obliged.

Steve took the pile of clothes and put them on the sofa. He would leave them there until much later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony said nothing else. He had said the little he could muster. He felt faraway. Once again removed his body. Sex with Steve was always fantastic, but it left him empty. Perhaps, there was a Steve-sized void in his heart and filling it with Steve wasn’t enough. This was temporary. Just as easily as they had entered one stage, here they were entering another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note the updated tags.

Steve lead him to the bathroom. He had installed heated tiles a while back and was grateful for having done so now. The floor was warm, and a rush of relief washed over him as he slid off his shoes and pressed his toes into the tiles. It was a small, but welcomed, comfort.

_“Indulge me,” said Tony to Steve as he watched him take off his boots._

_“Tell me what you think,” he said, as Steve crossed the threshold and made his way to the double sink._

_Tony stood by the door, gleeful as Steve turned to face him, pleasantly surprised. Tony watched him wash his hands with lukewarm - never cold - water._

_“Do you like it?”_

_Tony was fishing for compliments, he knew, but he wanted to hear Steve say it anyway._

_Steve dried his hands before walking back to the doorway._

_“You did this?”_

_“You know I don’t let anyone else remodel in here,” said Tony taking his hand._

_“You spoil me.”_

_“That’s the point. If I don’t do it, who will?”_

_Before Steve could reply, Tony covered his mouth with his finger._

_“Let me believe.”_

Tony had spent most of a sleepless night kneeling on the concrete below as he laid the tiles, thinking of Steve. He hated walking on cold tiles. He never mentioned it, but Tony had spent too many mornings watching him hesitate when he got out of the shower, waiting a second too long before touching the floor. It had never bothered Tony, who had spent a night in a snowstorm and regularly slept on all manner of hard surfaces.

And though Steve would never admit it, he was a man of refined tastes. Tony knew he was to blame. If Tony didn’t disclose the price, Steve would happily accept whatever Tony bought him, and wear it whenever the opportunity arose. At first, it was just his uniform, but it soon extended to other things as well. Much in the same way their professional and personal lives blended into one.

Steve knew he looked good in expertly tailored clothing. And he knew the women in his life would appreciate the watches, silk scarves, cashmere sweaters, and Italian leather shoes. Of course, Steve never mentioned who bought it for him, or why. That would be revealing too much.

Besides, none of these relationships ever lasted.

_Commitment issues, Steve would cite, when Tony would lay his head on his chest and breathe in his scent, after hours._

_“Hers or yours?”_

_Mine, he’d reply and capture his lips in a searing kiss, which would both answer the question and fuel many, many more._

He wondered what kind of life they’d be able to live if they hadn’t sworn oaths they had to uphold. On the best days, Tony would let his mind drift and the fantasies wash over him. Steve no longer asked questions when Tony would show up with a duffel already packed. He knew they were off on another retreat and he was learning to trust him more a blessing and a curse.

_“Your schedule is clear, and I need you for two days max. Here’s everything you need,” said Tony dropping a duffel bag at his feet._

_Steve studied it and continued towel-drying his hair. Steve had grown fond of one of Tony’s towels. They were warm and incredibly soft; a microfiber that dried quickly. Tony took note and replaced all his towels. Steve was pleasantly surprised the next time he stepped out of the shower in the locker room and dried his face._

_“I know you did this,” he said, as Tony approached him wordlessly. They had been training after hours, knowing the others were away or asleep._

_“Someone has to think of you,” said Tony._

_“Well, thank you,” said Steve wrapping the towel around his waist._

_Tony frowned slightly._

_“Behave,” warned Steve._

_“Only if you will,” retorted Tony._

_Steve only half-tried to hide his smile._

Tony had made it clear that if this were to continue, he wanted this to be a place where Steve could indulge, both his senses and desires.

Steve closed the door behind him and locked the door. No one would come looking for them. It was already late on a Friday, and for the time being, they could forget all that lay beyond.

It was easier this way.

Steve exhaled as he started to undress. It wasn’t a show but that didn’t stop Tony from watching transfixed as pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his broad shoulders.

Tony would never tire of the scene before him. He’d replay it over and over when Steve was away, or intimate with someone else. It hurt to think about those times, for as a far and few between as they were now. Now that Steve wasn’t seeing anyone, and Tony had stopped pretending his dates were just a cover.

It would force them both to confront what they were hiding in plain sight. For Tony, it hurt to think this was all a farce, that Steve was just another in a long line of beautiful people who had used him to an end.

On the worst days, Tony would sit in his workshop and replay the scenes. He’d watch them detached, as if they were happening to someone else. In some ways, they had. He had remade his body, deleted the memories he didn’t need, and settled into this life. The choices he had made weren’t weighing down on him anymore. Of course, that brought its own challenges.

For one, Steve detested him for it. He hated any attempts Tony made to change his body, to adapt to the world in which he lived, and to the life he led. He couldn’t hide his discomfort, but he couldn’t resist. It was new and Tony freely offered himself to him. It was enticing. And after all, Steve was a man just like him, hot-blooded and full of want.

Besides, they didn’t broach the topic. It was one of many, many things they kept behind the locked door. Tomorrow, or perhaps another day, they’d talk about it all.

At times, Tony struggled to remember Steve had once been frail. It seemed impossible given what he knew. He’d been watching and training with Steve for years. Their lives were ever-changing and full of impossibilities.

Before him now, he stood strong and tall. He commanded attention just by entering a room, or in this case, locking a door. Raptured, people would listen when he spoke, and Tony always listened, even when he pretended not to hear. He was coordinated and flexible and Tony had wrecked his whole physiology attempting to achieve that kind of perfection.

And he knew that was why Steve hated him for it.

Who else would blame Tony? Steve had exquisite control over his movements. Tony wasn’t the only one who tried. He would program and reprogram his armor, time and time again, but Steve had honed this skill in war, and Tony was only beginning to understand.

He still had a way to go.

Tony sighed. Steve must’ve heard him and turned. He was beautiful. It was ungodly and unfair.

It was then Tony noticed he was erect too and wasn’t that a sight to behold. He’d been lost in his thoughts, hadn’t appreciated what was happening before him.

Steve just smiled as he took himself in hand. Not realizing he had moved, Tony strode forward. Steve cupped his cheek with his free hand and leaned in to kiss him. Tony closed the space between them and deepened the kiss.

This was all he wanted. He wanted to be this close, to feel him pressed against him. They kissed some more.

When Steve had had enough, he pushed him down. Quickly catching on, Tony dropped to his knees.

Tony looked up and met his eyes but didn’t say a word. He’d used Tony’s favorite body wash and it was electrifying. The musk and the citrus blended with his scent, enhancing it. He imagined what he had missed. Water cascading over his closed eyes as he breathed in the heavy, humid air. He was always cold, though he didn’t mention it much. He had spent much too long in the ice. Tony knew, from the way he’d shift closer when they were lying in bed or lounging about the penthouse. Steve would press his body close and Tony never minded. Steve was his furnace and if that was what he needed to keep warm, who was Tony to deny him?

Tony didn’t want to waste what precious time they had. Teasing the tip would only delay things, and they’d been delayed more than enough. Tony closed his eyes and sheathed his length.

He was a little uncoordinated, so it was messy. He was drooling, not that Steve minded.

“Fuck, you’re so good at that,” said Steve.

He grabbed the back of Tony’s head and fucked his mouth in earnest. 

Tony wasn’t keeping track of time anymore. This was a liminal space.

Sometime later, Steve had knelled beside him. He caressed Tony’s cheek. He had been crying, and so, Steve wiped his eyes. Not uncommon in this scenario. Each time, Steve would push further and further, testing his limits. They had discussed it all once upon a time. On the field, they relied on nonverbal cues, and had brought that into their scenes.

He knew Steve wouldn’t hurt him. Well, not in a way that would scar.

“You did good,” he said, as he used a washcloth to wipe away the saliva and come on his lips. He leaned in to kiss him, as if he were breathing life into him. It reminded Tony of a time… The thought was fleeting. He couldn’t concentrate like this. The smell of sex hung in the air. Steve was so close to him. He was still caressing his face.

Tony leaned forward and dropped his head on his shoulder. Steve ran his hands through Tony’s hair. He was sweaty and disgusting.

“You’re not disgusting,” said Steve.

Tony hadn’t realized he had vocalized the thought.

Gently, Steve helped Tony rise. Everything hurt, from his neck to his back to his toes. He was crying again, he was sure. Steve lead him to the edge of the bathtub.

“The water’s warm,” he said.

Tony wrapped his arm around his neck and leaned into his shoulder. Steve remained firm.

“Just like that. There you go,” said Steve as Tony sank deeper into the water.

Steve asked him simple questions as he shampooed his hair. They had been doing this so long, Steve knew his routine. He noted any changes, and quickly adapted; always keeping tabs and adjusting.

“How do you feel?”

He had asked this before, but this time Tony just yawned.

“I think I’m too old to stay up all night,” he said.

“Who says you have to stay up? I can just tie you up, position you, and keep going. You can rest your eyes. Not that you’ll sleep,” said Steve.

Tony dropped his gaze. It sounded promising. He wanted to keep going, wanted Steve to keep going, but couldn’t muster the strength to keep his eyes open.

“You like that idea, don’t you?”

Steve laughed.

“Don’t laugh. It’s not funny,” said Tony.

“I’m not laughing because it’s funny, I’m laughing because you’re predictable.”

“Only to you,” said Tony.

That wasn’t true, not entirely.

The water was cool when they stepped out. Steve wrapped him in robe. Tony hugged it close. He was feeling more like himself. Now that he could feel all the aches, whereas before, they were a distant pain, felt by someone else. Someone inhabiting his body. Someone that wasn’t him. The bath had helped, though he would soon be in a different world of pain.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for Steve to return. Steve was rummaging through his closet in search of his rope. He knew there was a chest in the far corner. They had used a fair number of things before.

Tony, of course, had used all the contents in the chest, but his kinks and Steve’s didn’t align perfectly. It was just another reason for him to doubt.

He couldn’t follow that thought to its natural conclusion. Not with what lay before him. Not if he wanted this night to end peacefully, with Steve falling asleep beside him, thoroughly spent.

Steve returned with the rope in hand. Tony sat up.

“I’m going to bind your arms behind your back, you’re going to lie on your side. There will be a pillow for you to rest your head. You can keep your eyes close for as little or as long as you’d like, but I’m not going to stop until I’ve had my fill, and I can’t guarantee you’ll get a full night’s sleep,” said Steve.

Tony nodded.

“We can stop at any time,” said Steve in his real voice, the one that told him he cared, and this wasn’t a fever dream.

“I know.”

True to his word, Steve had bound his arms behind his back. His hands were in a fist, but he could flex his fingers. It was tight enough to sting. He would feel the burn in the morning or whenever Steve removed the restraints.

Lying next to him, Steve kissed him greedily, as if he still needed a taste.

Tony was much too comfortable. He was falling into a trance. Steve was teasing his entrance, slowly and softly. His arms were starting to hurt. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, not that he had a reason to care. He wouldn’t be going anywhere.

He held his breath when Steve stretched him wider.

“Perfect, just like that,” said Steve and Tony moaned as Steve pressed in.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he felt Steve move beside him. He pushed the hair from Tony’s face and kissed his forehead. Steve said very little, but his actions spoke for themselves.

He untied the rope and massaged his arms. Tony groaned in pain.

“I know you don’t take painkillers, but I have just in case,” whispered Steve.

Tony nodded. He hadn’t taken a painkiller in years, and he plenty of vices. No need to add another.

“Stay,” said Tony, shifting to give Steve space to lie beside him.

“I wasn’t going to go, not after a night like this,” he said.

Tony said nothing else. He had said the little he could muster. He felt faraway. Once again removed from his body. Sex with Steve was always fantastic, but it left him empty. Perhaps, there was a Steve-sized void in his heart and filling it with Steve just wasn’t enough. This was temporary. Just as easily as they had entered one stage, here they were entering another.

They would fall asleep, and in the morning, Tony would awake to a handwritten note on the night table in Steve’s neat penmanship. Maybe he’d go on his run and return with bagels. Maybe he’d go on his run and return home. Or, in an ideal world, he wouldn’t go on his run until he had kissed Tony.

Tony stirred as the dawn filtered through the drapes. Again, there was that void. Tony was alone in bed. It wasn’t a shock, but still, he felt the disappointment. He thought this time it would be different. He thought…

Tony heard a knock on the door, faint but firm.

Steve opened the door slowly carrying a tray of food. He was dressed for the day, wearing a form-fitting t-shirt paired with khakis. It should look terrible, and on anyone else, probably did. He looked like a dream. Maybe Tony was still dreaming.

“Thought you’d be hungry,” said Steve, placing the tray next to Tony as he straightened up.

“Thank you.”

Tony grabbed the buttered toast and took a bite.

“We should probably talk about this,” said Steve, hesitant. Tony didn’t blame him.

“We don’t have to,” said Tony.

“Yes, but we should.”

“We should do a lot of things.”

“Tony,” said Steve.

It was a warning. Tony had moved closer, tempting him.

“Do you…,” started Steve. He picked at his omelet but didn’t take a bite.

Tony took another bite of his toast and waited.

“Do you want to make this public?”

Tony dropped his toast on the plate and turned to face Steve.

It was a lot to digest. This bed, this room, this space they occupied when they were together, it was all that was keeping them together. It was all that was keeping him from crushing under the weight of expectations and deadlines. He wanted this. He wanted this to be real and true and lasting. It had been real and true before, but never lasting. At least, not until now.

He also wanted to keep this close, to keep this hidden. To keep this where only he and Steve could find it.

Steve took his silence for an answer and started to move. Tony reached for him.

“Don’t,” he said, and Steve sat back down.

“I’m not ready to share this with the world,” said Tony.

Steve nodded.

They ate their breakfast in silence, shortly thereafter, Steve left. Leaving Tony with an emptiness he couldn’t explain to anyone if he tried. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on [Tumblr](https://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com/), where you can reblog [this post](https://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com/post/624233521753522176/inexplicable-missydee811-marvel-616-archive).


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